Parcel Jokes

I thought I’d try and impress the postman today. I woke up in a great mood and I KNEW my parcel was being delivered today, so I thought I’d try and make the postman’s day a little better too. So I had breakfast, made myself a coffee and sat by the door waiting for him.

11am, he strolls up the path and, before he could even knock, I opened the door with a big grin on my face. He handed me the parcel, to which I said “thank you! Did this come from…Parcelona?”

The postman didn’t even bat an eyelid. Not a response. Not even a sharp exhale through his nose. He just turned and left. I couldn’t believe it. HOW did he not laugh? I’d spent the morning thinking about this one joke and I get nothing!

But then it dawned on me…

…if you’re going to make jokes about post…

…it’s allllll about the delivery.

I sent recently sent Reddit a joke about receiving parcels. Half of the viewers said they didn’t get it. Must’ve been a problem with the delivery.

I replied, “You’ve got the wrong house then, haven’t you?”

Bill Parcells

“If not in, leave with neighbours.”

I tried one more time and nobody answered, so I walked to their neighbour’s front door.

A young couple answered. I said, “Get in the van, I’ve been told to take you with me.”

“Hi sir, UPS, I’ve got a parcel for your next door neighbour”

“Oh then you’ve got the wrong house sir, he lives over there, bye”

When parcel is delivered in Car it’s called SHIPMent . When delivered in Ship it’s called CARgo

We aim to deliver your parcel tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

He said that my Parcel was too heavy and that I needed to put more stamps on it like that’s going to make it lighter.

Parcel Tongue

Parcel-y

A woman is driving with her son in the back seat to a new drive through service that allows for letter and parcel drop offs without having to get out of the car. It’s supposed to be convenient.

When she gets there to drop off her letter there’s a boom gate and a sign that says, “this boom gate is weight activated. If it does not open, your vehicle does not weigh enough to enter this facility”.

The woman thinks this is absurd and starts honking her horn to get attention.

A security guard comes over and asks her calmly to move her car as she is holding up traffic.

Still frustrated she says, “this is ridiculous! I am a very important person and the opinions I am expressing in this letter need to be delivered as soon as possible. That rule is stupid. Why can’t I post!”

Her son in the back seat takes the lollipop out of his mouth and says, “you don’t have enough car, ma.”

Where my husband was stationed in the military. As I checked in at the airport, the ticket agent asked me some standard security questions. “Has anyone given you any packages that you didn’t pack yourself?” he asked.

I told him that my mother-in-law had given me a parcel to take to her son.r>

He looked at me very carefully and asked: “Does she like you?”

I’m still hiding, I’m hungry and it’s dark, help!

Parcel-tongue

I wonder who’s sending the other one?

Parcel tongue

Pass the parcel

A dwarf rides up to a brothel on the back of a donkey holding a honeycomb wrapped in oilskin. He walks up to the madam.

“My good woman, I’ve been alone on the road for weeks. I would trade you this donkey,” he said, gesturing at the beast he rode in on, “For a room and a woman, and this honeycomb,” he said, unwrapping his parcel and showing the rather large, rare treat, “for a meal and a bottle of wine.”

“If you’re hungry,” the madam says, “Why not just eat the honeycomb.”

“For the same reason I’m trading in the donkey,” he replies, “One gets tired of having the same thing every night.”

The police officer then gets out of the car, and asks an old gentleman, “who owns the property?” The old man tells the officer that he does, and asks what he can do for him.

The officer, “I’m here to inspect your property for illegally grown drugs.” The old gentleman says, “Well, you go right ahead, but whatever you do, don’t go into that field over yonder,” pointing out a fenced parcel of land.

The officer, “Mister, I’m a law enforcement officer authorized by the federal government of our nation.” Reaching into his pocket, he removes his badge and shoves it right in the old boy’s face,“You see my badge, buddy? This badge means that I’m allowed to go wherever I wish, anytime I wish. Do you understand me? No questions asked.” The old gentleman nodded his head yes politely, softly apologized, and went about his chores.

A short time later, the old gentleman heard someone screaming in absolute terror – coming from where he’d told the officer not to go. He looked over at the pasture and saw the officer running for his life, chased by a very angry bull. With every step the bull was gaining ground on the officer, and it appeared likely that the policeman would be gored by the bull’s horns before he could reach safety.

Realizing the horrible danger that the policeman was in, the old gentleman ran to the field’s fence as fast as he could, determined to do whatever he could to help. Reaching the edge of the pasture, the old gentleman quickly climbed to the top of the fence, waving his arms frantically and screamed at the very top of his voice, “Your badge, officer, show him your BADGE!”

Parcel-tongue

“Those triangular pastry parcels with the spicy filling were delicious!”

“Samosa?”

“No, thank you, I’m full now.”

It was many years ago since the embarrassing day when a young woman, with a baby in her arms, entered his butcher shop and confronted him with the news that the baby was his and asked what was he going to do about it?

Finally he offered to provide her with free meat until the boy was 18.

She agreed.

He had been counting the years off on his calendar, and one day the teenager who had been collecting the meat each week, came into the shop and said, “I’ll be 18 tomorrow.”

“I know,” said the butcher with a smile, “I’ve been counting too, tell your mother, when you take this parcel of meat home, that it is the last free meat she’ll get, and watch the expression on her face.”

When the boy arrived home, he told his mother.

The woman nodded and said, “Son, go back to the butcher and tell him I have also had free bread, free milk, and free groceries for the last 18 years, and watch the expression on HIS face!”

His English is remarkably good, and we were talking about the difficulties of our jobs during the pandemic.

“It’s a complete hassle being a delivery man at the moment”, I told him. “We have to be extremely careful handling the mail and we have to stand back, wait and watch to see that people come to their doors and pick up their parcels.”

The man replied, “Ugh, tell me about it. At my job I can’t hold the pray book anymore. Too many germs.”

“Oh you work in a Church?”, I responded, curious.

“Not at all, I’m actuarry the offensive coordinator for the Creverand Browns.”

Pasta parcel

But another stamp will just make it heavyer

Pasta Parcel.

She told me, “ I don’t want a lot for Christmas.”

And cannot escape. They do however get to chose the method of their deaths.

the American goes first, surrounded by the tribe, his friends tied up watching, he asks for his shotgun and one shell. He declares “Long live the dollar and the American way!” And puts the muzzle up under his chin and BANG! he’s dead.

The tribe wast no time and descend onto his corpse, quickly flaying his skin off and separating the meat from the bones, they craft his bones into a frame and wrap his skin around it making a canoe!

Their eyes fall on the Frenchman, who asks for his sword. He takes a few breaths, looks up to the sky and yells “Vive le France!” and slashes across his neck. Again the cannibal tribe flay him, parceling up the meat and muscle of his corpse and turning his skin and bones into an other canoe…

Now the Englishman has seen twice the fate that will befall him… He asks for a Fork… He licks his lips, his brow beading with nervous sweat and says “Long live the Queen.” And starts stabbing himself furiously all over his body! “And bollocks to your canoe!”

A good friend of mine died last week. His wife asked me to speak at his funeral, but to please keep it short. When the time came, I was pretty emotional, but I was able to do it. I stood up, walked to the front of the room, and said “A small parcel of undeveloped land”. I guess it was what she wanted because, at the end of the funeral, she told me what I said meant a lot.

I think I’ve got the shakes.